11 February 2014

Thanks, Linda W!

Unbeknownst to me, our dear friend Linda had written a poem about Cathy, the cat, after her last visit. Just perfect:

Cat

I saw you walk across the floor
your once feline sleekness marred with age.
You had the look of battles won in years gone by.
Eyes that no longer saw the things your ears no longer heard
cared not for their loss as your nose scoured the bowl for bits of food.

I reached down to stroke your still vibrant fur
it’s orange and white splotches dotted with black.
The incredibly silkiness of your coat testified to a health
the jumble of bones belied underneath as they poked about
like a mass of rocks and barbed wire that had been left for years in the rain.

How can your deafening purr display content
when your joints must ache with their twisted movement?
I hesitated to stroke your back with its terrain of silk covered boulders
but you leaning into my touch and the increase of your content
told me you are not any less a cat as my hand learned how to caress you.